Canned Love
by end-the-third
Summary: A re-write/re-imagining of my previous story, "So Happy". I decided to focus mainly on trying to convey as much feeling as I could possibly squeeze in, so, no, not much actually going on. Mainly introspection, self-reflection, you get the idea.


Author's Note: I can't say too much about this one, except that I loved writing it

Canned Love

I was asleep for a very long time.

Walking through the world insensible to life, oblivious to everything around me, mechanically completing task after task set before me.

A robot.

My life never struck me as inherently wrong, or empty- actually, I thought I was doing everything exactly the way I was supposed to, the way I was expected to, and the way that was best for me. And I was. That was the problem. I was a proper automaton- just like everyone else.

My soul lay dormant for years. I wandered around, empty, everything I ever did, done for the wrong reasons, and it never occurred to me that there was any other way to live.

And then she came.

On that day, I was catapulted forcibly into self-awareness, exploding into existence with all the style and spontaneity of a fireworks factory set ablaze. I was forced to come to terms with who I really was, and, more importantly, who I eventually could be. It was my second birth. An awakening.

And to think: all it took was a well placed blow to the head from a sturdy bass guitar.

I live in a sleepy little town on the fringe of the world, a completely unspectacular place called Mabase. It used to be said that nothing different ever happens in Mabase, but that's not exactly true, not any more.

This town used to sleep soundly, as soundly as I once did. And then, ten years ago, Haruhara Haruko came here on business of a decidedly mercenary nature. She pretended to be a housekeeper- our housekeeper.

Fueled by nothing but instant ramen, adrenaline, and sheer force of will, armed with a Vespa, a bass guitar, a fat housecat, and a bunny outfit, she completely destroyed a heavy-handed evil corporation and a sizable chunk of Mabase itself, in pursuit of the mythical space pirate she'd fallen in love with.

She could never be accused of doing things in half measures.

A lot of people have mostly forgotten her, shoved those events to the back of their minds, picked up the pieces, and gone on with their lives. I envy them, honestly. I wish I could do the same.

I say "pretended to be a housekeeper" with good reason. There was no greater friend to dust bunnies than that woman. I don't think she encountered the vacuum cleaner once, even by accident, in the entire time she lived in the house. Her eating habits were disgusting, and she left her clothes everywhere. Usually, I was the one picking up after her. It never seemed wrong, somehow.

Anything she wanted, anything she asked- eat spicy curry, risk my life, fight giant robots, clean the bathroom- I would do it in the end, every time, whether I wanted to or not.

I think I was in love with her, once.

I'm pretty sure she was an alien.

I know she was insane.

I couldn't help it- she was everything that I wasn't, and though I was afraid at first, hated her, she drew me in like a moth to a flame. And I came too close; I burned so very, very brightly for her in the end.

Love. It was a funny thing. She was overpowering, like a rich woman's over-applied, all encompassing perfume. Haruko was… inescapable. And I was young. She was gorgeous.

There were times when I thought that she felt the same way for me, as ridiculous as it might seem in hindsight. It's very probable she only gave me the attention because I was being possessed by the soul of the man she was really in love with- the Pirate King, Atomsk.

And then, after that last battle, and Atomsk's departure from Earth, she left Mabase- and me- behind. Chasing her love across the universe. I can understand that.

Then again, I also understand why he would _run_.

Samejima Mamimi was a constant in my life when Haruko was new and loud and terrifying. If I could count on nothing else in the world, I could still count on Mamimi to show up every afternoon, complaining good-naturedly about the weather, smoking one of her crumpled, salvaged cigarettes, and toting around her newest pet- there was always something small in dire need of her to save it.

She never approved of Haruko. It's funny now, to think of how different they were, yet in some ways, how much they were the same.

She left Mabase, too, after that final fight with Medical Mechanica, and went to America. She became a photographer, a real one, and a real good one. Even Grandfather admits that she made something of herself after all. He never liked her, her too-short skirts and heavy-lidded eyes, rough manners, and her shameless flirting with my brother. Her hair was a shade of violet not found in nature, always loose and messy, falling into her eyes and sticking to her lips.

Nothing about her was innocent, and at the same time, everything was.

She loved me, and I don't say that with any amount of narcissism. I'm not beautiful, and I'm not good. It… perplexed me.

I was broken and she… loved me for it.  
Mamimi always did want to save everything.

She had the face of an angel.

Which one am I talking about? I don't even know if it really matters anymore.

It's strange, after so many years have passed; I find that I can't stop thinking about them. Comparing them, even though they were incomparable. I think about Naota, and Kamon, and Grandfather, and those thoughts don't pain me. I can think of them and the dust they must be now, and feel only a lingering fondness for the time I shared with them.

But Haruko… and Mamimi…

Is this what you humans call… regret?


End file.
